Romeo and Juliet by the Noble Eliwood's Elite
by snowylavendermist
Summary: Challenged by Nergal, Eliwood and co. have decided to take on the task of acting out Romeo and Juliet. Some stuff fits, others don't. Well, it can all be just too interesting for the audience...
1. Beginning

* * *

**_The Tragic Tale of Romeo and Juliet-As Played by Eliwood's Elite with much Reduction and Improvisation_**

* * *

**Tactician's Note:**

Now everyone, I can barely say about the amount of fun,

I had last night watching the show, which was _supposed_ to be full of sorrow.

As a very bold dare, Nergal scoffed them to put up a grand affair,

Consisting of an entire show of _Romeo and Juliet_, that would be as interesting as a fish fillet.

And so they the foolish fools, took up the challenge without half a box of tools,

Along with their entire crew, they turned the show into a puddle of dew.

The Eight Legends as judges, ghosts and tomato fudges,

Where very impressed I daresay, with their little bawdy fray,

That showed a lack of personal taste, but a lot of fried fish paste.

(I always suspected from the start, that those three had something fishy in their gut.)

And I along with half the world, was there as well to watch the scenes unfold,

Where everything seems to fall into place perfectly, except the intentions exactly.

Despite my best efforts to retain my dignity, I ended up on the ground, laughter growing into infinity.

Annoying the actors with my stupid grin, and watched them as they glared at my minor sin.

The curtains suddenly drew apart, leaving the audience with a very bored start,

Together with a blushing Serra yelling for the wardrobe mistress, giving as the curtsey of a seamstress,

A loud flurry of yells announced the first scene, as lethal as a shark's dorsal fin,

I will now leave you with the original, copied dutifully by only the most prodigal.

* * *

_This the beginning of everything._

_Read on, read on._

_Hector: I can't wait to grab my Armads._

_Raven: Just till you taste my sword you foul, dim- witted-_

_Merlinus ze Director: SHHHHHHHHH!!_

_Ha!_

_Enjoy yourselves!_


	2. Act 1 Scene 1

_**Act 1 Scene 1 with Introductions and Commentry**_

(The lights dim down and the curtains draw apart. There is a quiet murmuring amidst the audience. Everyone is settling down for a good show. Someone belches, another chews on his popcorn. There is a silent snore somewhere.)

All of a sudden, the spotlight comes on, and a richly brocaded figure comes on stage waving a thick red fur ball. I instantly recognize him to be the fashion disaster in the crew-Geitz.

"In sooth, I know not why am I so sad," he sniffs tragically and sobs dramatically. Producing a neon pink handkerchief with the words "I love Captain Fargus and I love my ship! XOXOXO" (which looks suspiciously like Dart's), he wept and blew his nose. "You say it wearies me, I say-"

"Geitz! Wrong script! That is The Wife of the Merchant of Venice. We are acting Romeo and Juliet Who are Not Romeo and Juliet!" The voice was Dart's, who had now appeared on stage to drag his less-than-intellectual friend backstage. Seeing that he took the wrong script, Geitz smiled sheepishly, waved at the audience, and kissed and threw the fur ball, which happened to curl up Braimimond's head.

"Ahem," Nils appeared on stage. Due to his small appearance, no one took notice of him. "Ahem! HELLLLOOOOWWWW!! Can you hear me? I SAID AND SAID HELLLLLLLOOOOOOWWW!!"

The microphone blew up. Everyone started.

"That's better," Nils coughed, crooking his harp under his arms. "Now, we can start."

"Two households set very apart in dignity,

In old Ostia, but with the same lack of harmony,

From the Eight Legends' grudge arise new futility-" (shower of dragon-fatal spells from the enraged judges)

Where noble (duck) blood runs (dodge) deeply WAHHHHHH!!"

He ends off dramatically and tears off the stage as a Durban tries to hoist himself onto the stage.

"Act 1, scene 1."

Ninian's quiet, somber voice calms everyone down again.

Matthew and Jaffar leapt onto the stage from either sides of the curtain.

"Aha! There goes that artless beef-witted bladder!"

Matthew yelled.

"Say any more and I will not speak any further."

Jaffar threatened with his hands.

"Bless your mewling courage, a fight it will be!"

Matthew grabbed his daggers. I mean his real daggers. The fake ones were still hanging cheerfully on his makeshift costume belt.

"…………… I want to go and pee…"

Jaffar signed thoughtfully, whipping out his killing edges as well.

"Say, you are no better than a morph, come, thy daggers!"

Matthew shouted at the top of his voice.

"And with a fatal swish of mine, I shall witness thou staggers."

Jaffar bared his teeth fearfully. Well, not exactly fearfully, more like making people feel like sicking up their dinners. He wore _dentures_. The person in front dropped his popcorn.

"It's not like I have a choice, I used to polish my daggers on my teeth so now I lost my voice,"

Jaffar frowned and wrote on the curtain in red ink.

The two of them engaged in an onstage fight. There were "biff"s, "pow"s and "good one"s, as well as "hit him slightly higher"s coming out as word effects. I am 99.9 sure Canas did all of that.

Kent strolled in, having discarded his armour and wearing the most ridiculous purple waistcoat I had ever seen. In his hand, he carried a Eliwood's rapier, which still had the little teddy bear attached to it.

"Fools, hold your daggers,

Or your heads might just grow rollers."

Kent said sternly, trying to pull the two of them apart.

Bartre hopped in wearing his pants on top of his head, a skirt around his waist, his T-shirt inside out and upside down, as well as his tie around his legs.

"What do Bartre see here? A worthy man fighting a fool,

Another fool trying to fool the worthy man into being a fool.

Tarry! Kill! Bartre hates peace! That is Bartre's top and number last rule!"

The two couples, Raven and Rebecca and Hector and Lyn came on stage. Lyn was dangling from Hector's arm like a bracelet, while Rebecca hooked her arm around Raven's hand.

"What monkey fashion runway show is this?

Give my Armads (Durban prepares to hoist himself on to the stage again), and I shall-not-try and still up peace!"

Hector roared, cracking as knuckles as he glared at Raven.

"A walking stick from finest Sacaen wood! Why do you call for an Armads?

Mind your age, dear husband, to be competing with young lads!"

Lyn chided, trying hard not to choke as hair gel dripped onto her face.

"Ho! Thou puny, hasty-witted maggot pie!

Ho! Thou goatish, hair-covered mango fly!

Ho! Thou reeking, celery-flavoured rotten piece of tie!"

Raven shouted, brandishing his hero's sword, the naked blade waving dangerously around Rebecca's head.

"Thou is not Santa Claus, so why the 'ho"s?

Be careful with that vile villain, although he is no bigger than your big toe!"

Rebecca said shakily, watching as the blade swung back and forth above her head.

Athos entered the stage, tripped, and rolled to the centre on his potbelly, had to be helped up by all the actors, and stood up finally.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

Yet what do I see here, a load of people, waiting to confess,

Their latest Christmas wish list, hot off the press!

But thy decorations are utterly despicably vile,

Although red is namely the colour of my nail file,

It does not mean I find my favourite colour in a messy pile!

Away! Away! Scrub and polish the tile!

Whoever that defies once again shall be thrown into the Nile,

So that he can never, ever, ever, forever walk again while,

I live and rest in Pharae with my liver full of bile.

Farewell, farewell, with a white swish of my glamorous beard I roll off in style."

On finishing his speech, Athos waddled towards the curtains once more, tripped over his glamorous beard once more, rolled down the stage and crashed into the judges' table, right into his good friend Braimimond.

Everyone, taking him to be the leader, followed him and crashed respectively into Bramimond. Kent realized that he was supposed to remain on stage and leapt up just as Sain came out with a dejected look and a red palm print on his cheek.

"Ah, my favourite friend! Thoust face is longer than a banana peel.

Talk to me about it, letters I accept, so long as I know how you feel."

Kent pranced up, very much out of breath.

"Kent! I asked Lady Florina whether she would go out with me after the whole thing since we are supposed to be lovers and she shrieked and refused and slapped me across-" Sain started his lament. "Oww! Kent! What was that for?"

"Sain, I mean the script!" Kent hissed, loud enough for the entire auditorium to hear.

"Wah? The script? Oh, right!" Sain jumped up and puffed to a full height of six feet two. "Ahem-men-men!"

"O Kent! Thou can never understand.

I am in love, yet in a no man's land."

Sain groaned as he pulled out a lacy pink handkerchief with the 'I love Captain Fargus and I love my ship! XOXOXO!' words. (I suspect Fargus has free handkerchief giveaways. I should go and collect one someday too.)

"So, it is jolly good Priscilla keeping thy mind obscure?

Have no fear, for with Kent here, her answer will be a 'for'."

Kent tried very hard to appear as a gentleman while at the same time throwing out his chest.

"No, no, it is not just that.

She refuses to date me, although she wears a hat.

She makes up vile excuses, and describes herself as a rat.

One minute she is too skinny, another she is too fat.

So impatient was I, I completely ate up her welcome mat.

Yet, she still swore to be as chaste as Diana's cat,

And so she never ceased sending me off although I was yelling 'drat'."

Sain sighed, dabbing his eyes fitfully.

"Tough luck, Sain, Priscilla is one hard nun.

But cheer up, or you will never find more fun.

And that Sain, was not a pun,

So you had better stand on your knight legs and run."

Kent concluded.

As the curtains closed to signal the end of act 1, scene 1, we could see an enraged Raven running around with a axe and a sword, followed by a weeping Priscilla, and chasing after the pair of Caelin paladins.

* * *

Tactician: I love this.

Hector: I don't.

Lyn: Stop using hair gel, you idiot, or I will divorce you.

Merlinus: Oh no, you can't divorce him, lady Lyndis. You are his faithful wife.

Lyn: Faithful my foot.

Hector: I would rather have Serra.

Serra (climbs fown from Matthew's back and bear hugs Hector): Milord, you really would? Oh, I love you so much, lord Heckie! We can have an ivory couch, a palace of gold, a pure silk dress trimmed in silver...

Matthew: Thanks, young master, for getting rid of a flea for me.

Hector: What?! Hey, Matthew! Get back here! Argh! Serra, please! GET OFF!

Tee hee.


End file.
